


All I Want Forever

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon!Dean, Doggy Style, F/M, Face Sitting, Female Reader, Oral, PWP, Reader Insert, Sex, Smut, porn with little to no plot, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 20:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8860213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: A response to challenge, my prompt was Stuffing The Turkey. NSFW aesthetic accompaniment included.





	

The hour was late and you were tired from driving, so when your phone pinged with a message as you pulled into the driveway of your little house, you prayed to whoever was listening that it wasn’t another hunt. Three days before Christmas, and you were more interested in sleeping through the holiday than dealing with another spirit or ghoul.

With little grace, you yanked your phone from your pocket, seeing a missing call from Sam Winchester of all people, and a message with a voicemail. Opening it up, you wondered why you’d never heard the call, but it was possible that you’d had no signal on the drive, or that it had maybe been drowned out by the radio that you’d put on to keep yourself alert.

_ “Y/N, it’s Sam. I know we haven’t spoken in a long time, but I had to make sure you were safe. Dean’s…Dean’s gone. And he’s not himself. If you see him…call me, please. He might be dangerous, and I know that if he’s gonna go anywhere…he might come to you. Stay safe.” _

The message clicked off and you pulled the phone from your ear, looking at it quizzically. It was a hell of a cryptic message, and you contemplated ringing Sam back for a moment, before deciding it could wait until you were inside and out of the cold. Your fingers had minimal feeling left as it was, and you didn’t want to risk frostbite any more than you already had.

Werewolves turning out of their designated time during winter in Michigan. What a nightmare.

Sam must have been mistaken anyway. You hadn’t spoken to Dean Winchester in four years, since you’d broken off whatever the hell it was you had with him. Beyond the drinking and the sex, Dean had never opened up to you, and had never expressed any feelings past the lust you both obviously felt. Of course, you’d done the stupid thing and fallen in love with the gorgeous, cocky asshole, and when it became apparent there was nothing but death on Dean’s course, you’d cut ties, and left, taking up hunting solo.

And you were doing a pretty good job of it on your own.

Slamming the car door, you looked up at your house, with the thick drawn curtains and lack of Christmas decorations, unlike every other house on the block. Maybe you were a little ba humbug this year, but you had every right to be. You had no family or friends to spend the holiday with – you never would have at this rate. But it was your own fault. Your experience had left you to believe that life as a hunter was life better spent alone, so no one but you got hurt. Despite your hopes for a future, so long ago, you’d given up.

The snow crunched underfoot as you slipped your way up the path to the front door, fumbling for your keys before your fingers fell off. As you managed to get the door open, warmth burst out at you, making you pause. Following it, was the low tone of Frank Sinatra, singing a Christmas song that you knew from years before. Light shone through the crack in the door, and you stood back, dropping your bag and grabbing your gun from the back of your pants.

Holding the weapon up, you used your foot to open the door, letting it swing wide with a loud creak. The light was coming from the den, and by the warmth coming from inside, you guessed whoever was there, had been there for a while. Sam’s message floated to the forefront of your thoughts, and you swallowed hard, stepping into your house.

‘Close the door, will ya? Letting all the heat out.’

It was Dean, but he sounded different, huskier. You frowned, slinging your foot behind you to kick the door shut, forgetting your bag on the porch. Sniffing the air, all you could smell was food cooking, and you glanced towards the kitchen, the first door on your left, where the oven was on and chopped vegetables laid on the side.

‘I heard you coming down the road. I should take a look at that junk heap of yours. Surprised it gets you anywhere these days.’ Dean sounded amused now, and you took a deep breath, rounding the corner to your right and stopping in the doorway to the den.

Dean sat, in the big chair you’d rescued from a garbage truck fate when you’d bought the house, his fingers wrapped around a whiskey bottle you knew you’d left full in the cabinet. It was now half empty, but he didn’t seem drunk. In fact, he just seemed…jolly. That was when you noticed the source of the lights.

The entire room was decorated, the tree you’d been neglecting in the attic standing proud in the corner, lights sprinkled across it, and apparently meticulously decorated. It was tidier than when you’d left, and you felt your grip on the gun falter a little as you took everything in. Dean smiled, taking a swig from the bottle.

‘You like what I’ve done with the place?’

Slowly, you drew your eyes back to him, keeping the gun up and trained, as he sighed heavily. ‘Why are you here?’

‘Sammy called, huh?’ Dean tutted, somehow picking up on your apprehension, curling his fingers around the bottle of whiskey in his hand. ‘Always spoiling my fun.’

‘He said you might be dangerous.’ You watched him carefully, not taking your fingers off of your gun, and not denying that his brother had called to warn you. ‘Are you dangerous?’

Dean grinned, his eyes flashing black, the truth of his nature inescapable now. ‘Wasn’t I always?’ he whispered, leaning forward. You sucked in a breath, unsure of what to do, unclear of Dean’s intentions beyond breaking into your house, raiding you alcohol and festively decorating. The tree did look lovely though – he’d obviously been working on it for a few hours. ‘Sam thinks he knows what I want. Thinks I’m damage bound but the truth…the truth is, there was only one thing I wanted that I was too scared to have. And now?’ He stood up from the chair, placing the bottle on the table next to it before spreading his arms wide. ‘I’m free. Fear’s gone.’

You took a step closer, almost without thinking, watching the play of Christmas lights over his freckled skin, his eyes almost misty with the plaintive joy in his voice. ‘What did you want, Dean?’ His eyes bore into yours, and you couldn’t deny the wisp of a thrill that landed itself at the bottom of your spine, every old repressed feeling you had for this man rushing back into your heart and making it land in your stomach with an iron thud.

‘You,’ he replied, his voice low. ‘With me. Nothing standing in our way.’

He was still stood a good metre or so away from you, but the way he spoke, it felt like he was everywhere. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and you felt the steady throb between your thighs – not an unusual symptom of Dean’s company. ‘You’re a demon,’ you whispered, but the words were weak and Dean knew it.

He laughed, shaking his head. ‘I’m still me.’

You focused your eyes on him, retreating a little, the gun shaking in your hand. You knew you wouldn’t pull that trigger – it was likely Dean knew it too – but you felt a little better for having the weapon between you and him. ‘Demons just inhabit meat suits. What did you do, burn off his tattoo?’

Dean shook his head. ‘Whole different kettle of fish, sweetheart.’ He reached up, pulling down the collar of his shirt, showing you the anti-possession symbol, still perfectly intact on his slightly freckled skin. ‘I didn’t get possessed by a demon, Y/N. I simply became one.’

The frown that had been present on your face since you walked up the path deepened, but the gun in your hands dropped a little as you tried to understand what he was saying. ‘I – then how? How do you become a demon without spending hundreds of years being tortured in –‘ Your eyes widened. ‘Did you die again?’

He gave a dry chuckle, moving closer still, but this time you didn’t retreat. ‘I did, in a way. I took on something I couldn’t handle to try and save…everything. To kill a really bad bitch that needed putting down. And when I went up against the big bad – I lost.’ He gestured to himself, tilting his head to the side. ‘This was the result.’

‘So…you’re still Dean.’ The tone of your voice indicated that you didn’t quite believe him, and Dean sighed heavily. ‘I’m sorry, I just don’t understand. You’re not like…you’re not like the man I knew.’

‘People can change in four years, Y/N,’ Dean pressed. ‘I was miserable, focused on hunting, drinking too much,’ he paused, sticking out his bottom lip thoughtfully. ‘I suppose I still drink too much, but at least I can’t get so fucked I black out now. Much better constitution.’

You shook your head a little, but didn’t resist as his hand came up to cover the muzzle of the gun. ‘Dean, I don’t…this is too…it’s  _ weird _ .’ The word didn’t seem like enough to encompass the situation, and Dean smiled, urging the gun downwards until it hung limply in your hand, your protests dying as he pressed up against you. ‘You’re really you?’ You asked, wondering if you were dreaming. Maybe you’d crashed the car and you were hallucinating from hypothermia. Maybe you were dead. Although, you didn’t imagine your heaven including a black eyed version of the only man you’d ever truly loved.

‘I’m not gonna hurt you,’ he whispered, pressing his mouth to your cheek, just below your ear. ‘All I ever wanted was to give up being  _ scared _ of everything, to give you what you always wanted from me. I know you loved me, Y/N. Just let me show you that I feel the same.’

The indoctrination of your childhood jumped to the fore, and you pulled back, looking up at him with uncovered fear in your eyes. Maybe he wasn’t scared anymore, but you were terrified of this new creature and the possibilities he’d brought into your life. ‘Demons can’t love.’

‘Because they’ve been twisted by hell,’ he insisted. ‘I haven’t become a demon that way. Maybe my eyes are black, maybe my soul is a little twisted now, but sweetheart, it  _ changed  _ me. I’m not afraid anymore. I’m not afraid of living life, of  _ loving _ you. Because I never stopped. The second you left, I was broken.’ It seemed like he was getting angry now, his hands coming up to grasp your biceps tightly, almost painfully. ‘And I couldn’t  _ fix _ it. I thought you were dead.’

‘Dean, I –‘

Tears sprang into his eyes, and you didn’t know whether to trust them or not. ‘I thought you were gone, that I’d never get a chance to…and then I found out you were alive, you just didn’t wanna be with me, and that – that hurt more.’ Dean sniffed, releasing your arms. ‘I’m sorry. I guess, my emotions aren’t as schooled as I want them to be.’

You watched him warily, reaching out your unarmed hand to cup his cheek. There was at least a week’s worth of stubble there, and it felt odd as it scratched against your hand. ‘Sam won’t let you be, Dean.’

He shrugged. ‘I can try. I was stupid before, and I put everything before you when I shouldn’t have. I treated you like a convenience when I should have treated you like a Queen. Sam doesn’t know what’s happened, not really. And he’ll come for me, I know, but I’m hoping…’ His fingers laced through yours. ‘I’m hoping you could help me convince him that I’m not doing anything but living my own life for a change.’

‘And what about Sam?’

Dean’s fingers tightened around yours. ‘Sam can do what he wants. We’ve been together our whole lives, and he’s my brother, but…we can’t keep fighting this losing battle. I don’t care about the world anymore, Y/N. All I care about is having the life I never got to have. The chance I never got with you.’

‘Dean…’ you whispered, as he pulled you closer, your gun clattering to the floor. ‘I –‘

‘Sssh. We have time,’ he urged, before closing his lips over yours.

The kiss was everything you’d dreamed of for years, unrequited feelings coming to the surface in a great rush and making you sag against him with the overwhelming need you felt. Dean’s hands held you up against his firm body, and he ground against you, making you all too aware of his reciprocated need.

‘I’m gonna show you,’ he muttered, his lips still grazing against yours as he spoke. ‘I’m gonna show you exactly what I should have shown you before I lost you.’ He bent down, scooping you up into his arms and making you yelp in surprise. Your arms automatically wound around his neck as he carried you away from the den, and up the stairs to your modest little bedroom.

He’d clearly been busy whilst waiting for you to come home, as you took in the lights along the bannister of the stairs, the tinsel around the doorway to your bedroom, and you giggled as he dropped you onto the bed, a grin on his face. He hadn’t been lying about the change in him - he was more carefree, more boyish than you’d ever seen him before.

‘Stay right there,’ he ordered, and took a step back, unbuckling his belt.

‘Am I getting a strip show?’ You asked, eyes going wide as he smirked and nodded. ‘But I can’t hear the music properly.’ You stuck your bottom lip out for effect, and Dean laughed, a sound you couldn’t recall hearing so sweetly.

He moved then, turning on the radio next to your bed, which was also playing Christmas music. There was no escaping it this time of year, and you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to see Dean sway his hips to “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day”.

He was even mouthing the words.

‘You like this, huh?’ Dean pulled his t-shirt up a little, revealing his not-overly-toned-but-still-lickable abs, and you nodded, trying not to dribble as he pulled it up a little higher, before yanking it clean over his head. He licked his finger, dragging it down the middle of his stomach, and you shivered at the overtly sexual tone of it all. ‘Baby, I could do this professionally.’

You giggled again, hugging your knees as he continued his little dance, turning around and shaking his ass in a very poor attempt at twerking.

‘Okay, maybe not,’ he concluded, pushing his pants down his legs. The uncoordinated attempt to look sexy certainly gave you an eyeful of his ass, but you couldn’t help laughing as he almost tripped over his jeans when he realised he’d never taken his boots off. He turned, a sheepish look on his face, as he kicked everything off. ‘Show’s over.’

‘But the evening just began,’ you protested seductively, pushing yourself onto your knees and beckoning him closer. His cock was already hard, bouncing with each step he took towards you, and you wasted no time in grabbing him and pulling him close. Dean looked down, groaning as you licked the tip, gathering up the precome there and swallowing it down with a smile.

‘Fuck, you’re beautiful when you do dirty little things like that,’ he crooned, sucking in a breath as you slid your lips over the crown of his cock, scraping your bottom teeth along that sensitive bit you knew always worked him up. ‘God, you’re beautiful whatever you’re doing.’

You looked up at him, not taking your eyes off his as you worked more and more of his dick into your mouth, until you could barely breath, and could feel him in the back of your throat. Dean remained as still as he could, but he couldn’t stop the reactive twitch of his cock as you hollowed your cheeks around him.

When you started moving, he had to part his feet a little to stop from swaying, as the blood completely abandoned his head and rushed south. ‘Fuuuuuck,’ he cursed, drawing the word out and throwing his head back as you kept taking more and more of him, bobbing your head over his cock until he was curling his toes into the carpet. ‘Fuck, Y/N, gonna, fuck, fuck -’ His fingers landed on the back of your head, and you let him fuck into your mouth a couple of time, before he came, hot and salty on your tongue. You swallowed everything he had to give before licking him clean, relishing every little jolt he gave at the sensitivity of his cock.

His breathing was heavy as he looked down at you, batting your eyelashes coyly up at him. ‘Was that good?’ You asked, grinning, knowing exactly how fucking good it was.

Dean growled, and pounced, pinning you to the bed, his mouth claiming yours. The kiss was deep, and you knew he could taste himself on your tongue, which made it approximately one thousand times hotter. ‘Get those pants off,’ he ordered, breaking the kiss. You nodded, eager to obey, and stripped your pants down your legs, kicking your boots across the room. One hit the chest of drawers, and something fell off - but you couldn’t care less.

The second your lower half was bare, Dean was pulling you up his body, removing your shirt as you went, until your thighs were around his neck, your bare cunt inches from his hungry mouth. You looked down at him, feeling a little self-conscious, trying to cover yourself with your hands.

‘Don’t you fucking dare,’ he hissed, yanking you up further until his mouth was sealed against your pussy and you flailed, somewhat clumsily as he did, planting your hands on the wall above the headboard to stop from falling. ‘Mmmm, sweet tasting pussy,’ Dean murmured, the scratch of his stubble against your thighs almost too much to bear. ‘Stop wiggling,’ he ordered, scowling up at you.

You giggled, not stopping, his scruff tickling you too much. ‘I’m sorry! Your cheeks -’ You giggled again. ‘It tickles!’ Dean rolled his eyes, pulling you up a little further, and your giggles turned into a cry of shock as he plunged his tongue into your soaked hole, stretching it as far as he could. His nose was buried against your clit, the tiny movements against the sensitive bundle sending shockwaves into your core.

The scruffy stubble he sported was soon forgotten as he tongue fucked you hard, pausing every few moments to tease your clit, his fingers holding on so tightly to your thighs, you thought there might be bruises when he released you. Your fingers curled into the wallpaper, and he growled against you as you tried to raise yourself up a little, and you couldn’t help but draw a comparison to removing food from a dog.

Maybe a little more dangerous than a dog.

‘God, you taste amazing,’ he exhaled, licking you once more, before zeroing in on your clit and suckling it into his mouth. Your eyes crossed and you felt the pressure in your belly coil, then snap, and you lost control.

The noises you made were downright pornographic as you came, and Dean’s tongue was making equally graphic noises as he lapped up every drop of your come, not stopping until you were almost slumped against the wall. He gently lifted you off, using strength you weren’t sure he should have possessed, and aided you down until you were lying beside him, your legs shuddering with the aftermath of your climax. You looked up at him, seeing his chin and upper lip glistening with your juices, and it only made you horny all over again.

He rolled onto his side, wiping his face none-too-gracefully, his cock hard again, slapping against your thigh as he readjusted his position.

‘Miss my smart mouth?’ He quipped, and you contemplated slapping him for his cheek, before you realised that most of your body was numb, so you settled for a nod and a sigh. Dean grinned, looking down. ‘Can I fuck you now?’

‘Give me a minute,’ you muttered, still trying to feel like the room wasn’t spinning. ‘You outdid yourself.’

His chest puffed up in pride, and he winked. ‘Gotta keep my reputation.’

‘Ha!’ You barked, before moving you hand to wrap your fingers around his cock, giving him a few slow pumps that had him moaning and thrusting up against you. ‘Where do you want me?’ You asked, trying to sound sexy.

Dean smirked, looking down at himself before back up at you. ‘Fucking everywhere.’

You released his cock, moving so you were on all fours, resting your head on your wrists as you pressed them together. ‘Fuck me, Dean.’

He groaned, watching you stick your ass out in the air, presenting yourself to him, before getting to his knees and moving behind you. ‘Now that is a sight I missed,’ he growled, landing a firm slap to your ass. ‘Could you just do this whenever I walk into a room?’

You giggled, then moaned, as he rubbed his cock against your soaked folds. ‘That could get awkward if we had visitors.’

‘Oh, baby, if I had my way, we’d never leave this bed again.’ Before you could respond, he pushed against you, the head of his cock inching into your cunt, and you whimpered, not even trying to resist the urge to push back onto him. ‘Yeah, fuck, that’s it, Y/N. Fuck yourself with my cock.’ You obliged, biting down on your lip as you pushed back onto him, not able to take the entire length in the position you were in.

It wasn’t long before Dean grew impatient, his hands holding your hips firmly and bringing you back flush against him, hard enough that the blunt tip of his cock slammed into your cervix and you saw white behind your eyelids. He didn’t stop, ramming the length of his dick into you over and over, not even breaking a sweat as he pulled scream after scream from your throat.

‘Fucking tight, gorgeous little pussy,’ he growled, his fingers digging into you, the pressure of his strokes pushing your body down until you were flush against the bed, no longer on your hands and knees, Dean’s cock impaling you without resistance. You clutched at the pillow, feeling your climax approaching, his angled thrusts hitting every single spot to spur you on.

For a second, you regretted not putting a towel down as you came, gushing over his cock and balls until it dripped down your thighs and his, landing on the clean bedspread. Dean grunted loudly, not stopping as your walls grew slicker, easing his thrusts.

‘Gonna come, sweetheart. Gonna fill you up, yeah?’ He groaned in tandem with you, and you tried to push back against him, but with the weight of his body on yours, all you could do was ride out the aftershocks on his dick, before he finally spasmed, twitched and pumped you full of come.

He collapsed, just about keeping his weight from crushing you as both of your orgasms finally petered out, withering into nothing but a pleasant tingle in your extremities.

Your breathing evened out as Dean rolled off of you, taking a few moments to clean himself up. You didn’t move until he offered you a towel, before he slid back into bed beside you.

‘We can’t lay here all night,’ he muttered, pulling you into his side as you tossed the towel at the laundry bin, completely missing. ‘Dinner is still cooking.’

‘I thought I saw food. Did you actually make a Christmas dinner?

He shrugged. ‘I’ve never done it before. There was a certain appeal to stuffing the turkey, although I think I enjoyed stuffing you more.’ The leer on his face made you chuckle as you laid your head to rest on his chest, running your fingers over his anti-possession tattoo.

‘Some things never change, huh? You still have an awful sense of humour.’

‘My sense of humour is fantastic, thank you very much,’ he commented, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. ‘But we really should move before the turkey goes up in flames.’

‘I know.’ You sighed, and still, neither of you moved. ‘Are you really staying, Dean?’

‘Yeah, I am.’

‘For the whole of Christmas?’

He shifted, turning the both of you so he could look into your face, a faint smile on his face. ‘For the whole of forever, if you’ll have me. I meant what I said.’

‘What about when Sam comes for you?’ The turmoil was plain on his face, laced with irritation at the mention of his brother. ‘He will, Dean. He’ll come for you, and you’ll go back to…to…’

Dean pressed his forehead to yours, nuzzling your noses together. ‘I’m not going back to being afraid of this, Y/N. I’m not afraid of this anymore. If Sam does come, we’ll face it head on. Show him that I’m not dangerous. Not when I’m with you.’ He sighed heavily. ‘I’m not losing this again. I’m losing  _ you _ again.’

You nodded, closing your eyes and clinging to him, unaware that his eyes were open and black as night as he pulled you close, holding onto you just as tightly.

It was the only way he had to shut the Mark up.


End file.
